


Maniacal Music Video Shenanigans (And Their Perpetrators)

by Furzeflower



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - No Sburb/Sgrub Sessions, Dancing, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, Music, matespritships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:41:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24867748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Furzeflower/pseuds/Furzeflower
Summary: Dave Strider and Jade Harley are a legendary Houston-based musical duo - their beats are unmatched, and bass solos legendary. Halfway across the country, unlikely friends Feferi Peixes and Karkat Vantas are working to get their New York-based dance studio up and running. When the two mismatched pairs meet through a mutual friend (or two), a fantastical plan to film and choreograph a music video is born. The plan is crazy, and Karkat and Dave hate each other - but will they make it through?
Relationships: (all four of them are In Love but shhhh not till later), Dave Strider/Karkat Vantas, Feferi Peixes/Dave Strider, Feferi Peixes/Karkat Vantas, Jade Harley/Dave Strider, Jade Harley/Feferi Peixes, Jade Harley/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7
Collections: Homestuck Polyswap 2020 - Prospit





	1. Beginnings (and surprises)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thescyfychannel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescyfychannel/gifts).



“And one, and two, and steady, and step!” A chorus of thumps and heavy breathing filled the mirrored room. Though the dance track was playing, the two hardly paid attention. They had, of course, memorized the dance prior, down to the degrees in which their heels turned as they leaped. 

Feferi’s long, wind-swept hair was tied back in a loose bun by her multi-colored scrunchies. Bracelets jangled around on her wrists and ankles, their neon hues bouncing around as she danced. Her sign, emblazoned proudly on her chest, was the same tyrian as her arm and leg warmers, a matching set gifted to her by her dance partner. Despite their less-than-enthused audience, Feferi was smiling and giggling as if she were dancing in her bedroom. 

Opposite her, executing the same practiced movements, was Karkat. His face was much less jovial, but upon closer examination of his yellow-grey eyes, you could see the pride behind them. Though he tried hard to be stoic, whenever he caught sight of Feferi’s gap-toothed grin, it was impossible not to let the corners of his mouth rise. His sign, finally in the red it was meant to be, was painted in messy strokes on the front of his shirt. You could still see the grey underneath if you squinted just right. He was in a long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants, barely breaking a sweat despite the dance studio’s humidity. His arms moved in tandem with his partner’s, dancing to Pharrell Williams’ ‘Happy’ for these kids as if it were the Paris Opera House. 

Feferi had insisted on simplifying the movements, despite Karkat’s protests of ‘If they can’t fucking dance, they shouldn’t be in our studio!’. She had clasped her manicured hands together and pursed her lips, and he was done for - always. They had simplified the dance so it wasn’t back-breaking for the children.

Karkat had still, of course, insisted they learn the original perfectly to show them how it was done.

It was mesmerizing. It was gorgeous. Ethereal. A perfect harmony, working together as if the heavens sang for their dancing.

It was in front of nose-picking toddlers.

Feferi dropped to her knees, arms ready to catch her partner as he leaped on the final phrase. He landed in her arms without fault, of course - Feferi was obnoxiously strong as a result of her sea-dwelling heritage. It was quite the sight; a muscled young girl with gills and a mile-wide smile holding a short and slightly pudgy boy in her arms like a baby doll - both seemingly painted in grey and wearing candy-corn colored horns.

The two were breathing heavily as they finished, and Feferi set her partner down on the wooden floor as gently as she could. The song ended, and as if spurred to action (and remembering their manners), the gaggle of toddlers began to clap sporadically with sticky fingers and palms.  
Feferi was beaming, and Karkat was scowling. She stood, gracefully, and dusted off her multi-colored skirts. With a bow to her audience, she giggled and grinned, her famous smile enrapturing her students’ attention.

“I told you that Mr. Vantas and I would dance for you all today if you were good!” She placed her hands on her thighs and slid down until she rested on the balls of her feet, almost at their level. “And,” she whispered conspiratorially, “I think you guys did so well today, you’re almost ready for your recital next month!”

Karkat scoffed as the kids giggled. He had picked himself off the floor and joined Feferi in addressing their three o’clock class. 

“Ms. Peixes is right - you guys are getting pretty good.” He forced a small smile, trying not to scare the children. Feferi smiled with pride, and he blushed.

Their studio had been open for almost a year, but they had just recently started teaching younger classes - something Feferi had been spouting about “diversifying their work”. He was still getting used to not being able to curse out a student when they sucked, so Feferi usually kept his interactions with the kids minimal.

The two had started out as dance partners in a long-forgotten studio taught by a long-dead, snobby instructor. Karkat had gotten a slot in the hip-hop class because he had begged and scrounged and danced for it. When the instructor deigned to give him the spot, it was undoubtedly out of pity. But Karkat hadn't cared - he would dance, a fact that his friends would taunt him with for years following.

Feferi, an heiress to some baking company, had blinked and was given a spot, despite her lack of talent. Karkat had initially resented her; if not for her privilege, then certainly for her lack of appreciation for the craft. It took them several years of forced classes together to really begin to understand each other. It had started as a slow, begrudging friendship, and had blossomed into an inseparable dancing duo. Karkat's style was refined and tactical - he knew what he was doing and why. Feferi, true to her sea-dwelling heritage, was as free-spirited as they came. Her style was a match for Karkat's rigidity, and by some odds unknown to man, they had found each other.

She had called it fate. He had called it dumb, ass-shitting luck. Regardless of their thoughts, the two had blossomed into unique and inseparable individuals - and when Feferi had asked Karkat to be her Matesprit, it was to no one's surprise.

They opened the studio not long after and lived upstairs. Work was hard but fulfilling, and they filmed YouTube videos for extra income. Their channel was surprisingly famous, entitled "Dancing for Noobs". It had begun as an instructional series with two interesting instructors but had blossomed into a performance and tips channel, with many fans doting on the pair like a married couple.

With a wave goodbye and a bright smile, Feferi sent the kids off. She opened the studio’s door to call the parents waiting in the hallway. Karkat was nearly trampled by the sea of children likely looking forward to their twice-weekly after-class McDonald’s trip. 

He gagged, imagining the smell of orange Hi-C spilled in an already sticky PlayPlace. 

Rich kids. 

Looking over at the door, Karkat noticed that a worried-looking Feferi was trapped by the mother of one of their students. They called her “Karen” behind closed doors, as a result of her overbearing nature and unfortunate haircut. A warning look from Feferi let him know that if he went over to help her, he’d go off, and they would lose a customer. He took a deep breath and smiled sympathetically. She turned back to Karen, and he turned back to the broom he was using to sweep. 

He was methodical and even, pulling the kid-sweat and dust from the corners into a center pile. As he swept, he kept half an ear open for Feferi’s conversation - though nervous giggling and angry taunts seemed to be the only thing he could hear.

A tiny ‘Ding!’ jolted him from his thoughts. The broom clattered from his hands, and he blushed beet red as he fumbled to get it back. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that it was the work laptop, alerting him to a notification. Feferi usually handled these things, but she was preoccupied, so, broom in hand he marched over to check.  
Catching sight of her partner making his way over to the work computer, Feferi broke her conversation to call out a hasty warning.

“Karkat, no!” The last thing she needed was Mr. Grumpy-Nubs discovering her plan before it’s completion. No doubt, he would cancel immediately when he discovered just who they would be recording with. She winced in preparation for both his and Karen’s anger.

Karkat’s eyes widened in surprise as he read the email. It was written in sickeningly familiar green text, embellished with signature smilies. He skimmed to the end, eyes falling on a shock-inducing sentence.

‘Dave and I can’t wait to record with you two next week! :D’

“FEFERI, WHAT DO YOU FUCKING MEAN WE’RE RECORDING WITH THOSE DOUCHEMUFFINS?”

-

The AC whirred away, fighting a losing battle against the infamous Texan heat. A crow’s nest was seated on top, no doubt slowing the machine. A young woman dressed in a green tank top and black shorts was sprawled across the bed in the corner, arms splayed in an attempt to cool herself. Her long, dark hair was pinned in a bun on her head, keeping the unruly tangles off her neck.

Across from her sat a young man with bleach-blonde hair and comically large sunglasses. A native Texan himself, he was far more accustomed to the heat than his partner and was dressed in a red long-sleeved t-shirt and jeans. He was seated in front of a large mixing table, a laptop perched dangerously across his knees. 

Foregoing holding his laptop, the man snapped his fingers to gain her attention. He chose to finger-spell this phrase, as he couldn’t properly sign the words without turning around - which, if he did, would undoubtedly topple the nest of cords around him. "Babe. Check it." he signed.

Without waiting for a response, Dave Strider pressed a single button on the soundboard in front of him. A fast-paced and guitar-heavy track began to play, though clearly unfinished. Though rough, the talent and work put into it was clear, filled with masterful riffs and long-winded phrases. 

Jade Harley rolled her eyes, pulling herself up into a sitting position against her body’s protests.

"Daaave," she whined. "It’s too hot to work.” Dave had begrudgingly shifted his chair to better see her as she signed her response. He laughed a breathy, dry chortle, and turned the volume up even louder. The crow that was nestled outside of the window cawed in indignation before flying off, no longer content to sit through the vibrations.

"David Elizabeth Strider, If you don’t cut it out I’m going to the garden!”

He leaned back in his chair in mock defeat and slapped the spacebar on his keyboard to pause the track. He fully turned his desk chair around to face the bed, disturbing (But thankfully, not toppling) the mess of electronics. He laid a hand over his brow in surrender. 

"Oh, please," he begged, no longer fingerspelling, having switched to full ASL. "Not the pumpkins. Take anyone but the pumpkins. I would be too jealous." Jade rolled her eyes once more, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. 

She heaved herself up over the bed’s edge, standing on shaky legs. She made her way over to the desk, carefully avoiding the piles of tchotchke that marred their room’s floor - and the strangest hazard, her many instruments. She stopped in front of the desk, leaning on the wall beside. 

“You’re an asshole.” She said, deliberately speaking the words. “But I love you.”  
“I can read lips, remember?” was Dave’s reply. He smiled wide as she scoffed. He held up the sign for “I love you” on his left hand, and held up two fingers on his right. Though not the correct way to say “I love you, too”, it had become their very own shorthand for it. She returned the gesture and turned around, heading out the door, on her way to the garden. She had been joking earlier, but she genuinely needed to tend to the greenhouse - she had finally gotten her pumpkins to stay, but they were still demanding little creatures.

As she left, she took a moment to flip the bird at her partner, which he jovially returned.

She left with a smile on her face and warmth in her heart. She and Dave had, of course, met as kids on a chat client. As they grew up, they, along with their mutual friends Rose and John, remained close friends. But, distanced as they were, it was hard to stay connected. The years had passed uneventfully - Dave’s older brother had passed in a tragic puppet-related accident, John had moved out of his suburban utopia and into the big city to become a comedian, and Rose owned an incredibly successful online store full of her knitting and writings. Jade, bound to her tropical home, had found herself lonelier than ever before. Her island home had become even more oppressive in her later years, the endless jungles no longer unexplored. 

She had, in short, grown bored. 

Out of her boredom, Jade Harley decided to start a YouTube channel. She had begun with videos of her gardens and the adventures within them - the mysterious pumpkins, the endless rows of flowers, and the ever-encroaching vines on the greenhouse walls. The channel had started out small but grew popular over a year or so. By her first hundred thousand subscribers, astute watchers had pointed out the instruments scattered in the background of her videos and begged her to play. Enjoying the interactions with her fans, Jade had obliged, posting a video of her Eclectic Bass, which quickly shot to the #24 spot in YouTube’s Most Watched. Her instrumental endeavors would boost her channel into the millions, with videos of her bass the most popular, overtaking any gardening or vlogs. Her channel would soon gain the attention of Dave Strider, whose music channel produced quality tracks on the monthly. He was, of course, mostly mad that his friend hadn’t bothered to tell him that she had a music channel now, especially considering that he’s “like, the god of music. apollo but better and hot”. 

He had immediately invited her to play on his next release - it was perfect timing, as the track called for a bassline that couldn’t be replicated correctly in a synth program. This would be the start of a beautiful set of collaborations - and soon, neither of their channels produced content that didn’t include the other in it. Though already great friends, it was mostly luck that they made great business partners as well. The two became even more popular together, with many fans rooting for their relationship more than anything else. 

Jade wasn’t really sure why she was able to get off the island. Becquerel, her faithful guardian, had never let her off before. But for some reason on an otherwise unremarkable day, Bec had just… let her go. She was free, able to transportalize to and from the island. He was always waiting for her when she came home, of course - tail thumping and tongue lolling when she arrived. 

Her first destination had, of course, been Dave’s Texan apartment. When she appeared in a flash of green, buck teeth and all, Dave had promptly squealed. His closest friend had just appeared in a radiation-colored lightning storm, in his living room, without warning. 

After a few explanations and teary-eyed hugs, the two of them had been inseparable. She, of course, took Dave to visit Rose and John with her sometimes - though they now had a policy of asking first, because she had once transportalized into a live video John was doing for a comedy show.

With two flourishing YouTube channels and life-long friendships, it wasn’t long before the two of them moved in together, trying to make a better career out of their music. They merged channels, and are currently trying to open up their own record label. 

They’d also kissed. A lot. But that’s less important than the other stuff.

Jade had walked out of their apartment and ascended the stairs to the rooftop garden that she had commandeered. It was swelteringly hot inside the greenhouse, but it kept the gentler sprouts from burning in the sunshine. She moved to reach for her log of plants but was interrupted by a persistent ‘buzz’ from her pocket. 

Oh! An email. It was from Feferi, of course. The two had met through a somewhat convoluted chain - She knew John, who knew Vriska, who knew her. The two had started talking at a small get-together John had hosted for some of his friends. The two instantly clicked - some comment about their equally long, tangled hair had set them off on an hour-long conversation, which they came out of knowing more about than they knew about themselves. Phone numbers and email addresses were exchanged, and a collaboration of their mutual talents was born.

They had organized the event in secret - Jade had been working on a song, and Feferi, a matching dance, without their respective partner’s knowledge. Their grand plan was to meet up, explain the situation to the boys, and film a kick-ass music video. 

Neither of them were very good at planning things, unfortunately.

It had taken far, far, longer then either one had anticipated, and it became harder and harder to keep it a secret. Karkat asked questions about Feferi’s mysterious dance sessions, and Dave was left to wonder about Jade’s late-night music.

As the date drew closer, Jade had realized something catastrophically wrong with the plan - Dave and Karkat hated each other. They had neglected to realize that they were also mutual friends of John and Vriska, respectively, so they had met before - and it had ended disastrously. 

It had been hate at first sight, apparently. A pure, unwavering, platonic hate - no respect to be seen, so a kismesistude was out of the question. Karkat had made a comment about “that shades-wearing asshat who thinks he knows music” while browsing YouTube, alerting Feferi to the possible dilemma. 

They chose to ignore it, hoping the plan would proceed smoothly regardless.

It did not.

Moments after Jade’s phone buzzed with her email notification, Dave flew out of his chair and bolted up the stairs to the roof. Though the route was achingly familiar, he paid it no mind - the only thought he had was panic.

He thundered into the greenhouse, hair mussed and shades awry, exposing his beautiful scarlet eyes that Jade loved so much.

He was out of breath - not from the sprint, but from the pure shock of what he had just read. Quickly deducing from his disheveled appearance and the email she had received, Jade groaned in frustration.

“I left my email open on your computer, didn’t I?”

“What do you fucking mean, we’re hosting that piss-drinking grey asshole?!”


	2. Arguments, Resolved and Otherwise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Naturally, going behind your boyfriend's back to plan a trip involving the person he hates the most in the world is bound to have consequences.

“Oh, nuh-uh. Nope Nada. Fuck that.”

“But Karcrab! Jade and I have been planning fish for weeks! The tickets are bought, so we have to go!”

“I said, no, Peixes. I am not getting anywhere near that pompous scarlet fuckstain.”

“Please, Karcrab! I won’t go without you!” Her eyes, pleading and yellow, bore into Karkat’s very being. She was as relentless as the hunters of the ocean she called friends. Her manicured hands were clasped together in hope, and her toothy smile was bared in an attempt at coercion.

He stood an arm’s length away from the beseeching mertroll, with crossed arms and a red-hued face. He was pissed. He was livid. His supposed partner had gone under his nose and arranged a meeting with the person he hated more than just about anyone in the world - David Elizabeth Strider. His too-shiny shades, that goddamn bleach-blonde hair. He reeked of insecurities. 

And she had, without hesitation, arranged for them to live together. For a week. All four of them, cohabitating, working and shitting in the same apartment. For. A. Week.

He could fucking scream.

And yet, there she stood, eyes still hopeful like she hadn’t just committed a cardinal sin. He may be beyond-angry right now, but looking at her genuine expression and hope softened him, even just a bit. 

“Fuck you. Fine.” he relented, sighing. His body deflated like a balloon - she had effectively won. 

“I knew you’d come around!” she cheered, reaching out for his hands. 

“Ah-ah-at!” Karkat pulled back, stepping away from her outstretched claws. “It doesn’t mean I forgive you, Peixes. You went behind my back.”

“I min-know, I min-know.” Feferi’s hands fell to her sides, dejected. “I wasn’t thinking at all.” She perked up like a puppy - if she had a tail, it’d be wagging from side to side. “But I was reely doing it for the best, don’t you sea? You can’t be such a beach all the time, Karcrab!” 

He was sick of the fish puns.

She had grown up using them, as she lived by the sea when she was younger. Now a New Yorker, the constant flood of accents and tongues around her had caused her to develop a less refined vernacular. No longer the proud heiress, she slung curses like any good sailor, and her fish puns had considerably fallen out of favor. She only used them now when she wanted something.

“Yeah, I get it,” Karkat began, annoyed, “But it was still a dick move. Now stop with the fish puns! I will be a bitch - not a beach - If I want to!” She pouted in response, hands immediately jumping to her hips.

“No, you will not! You need to work on your anger issues, Vantas! You can’t decide you hate everyone you meet unless they’re handing you money to teach them to dance!” His face lit into an angry shade of crimson.

“I need to work on my anger? You need to work on your goddamn… fuck! Your, uh…” His face fell, realizing that he was falling into the trap set before them. He wouldn’t argue with her unless necessary - and they could talk this issue out like civilized trolls, dammit.

“My what, Karkat? Say it!” she hissed, teeth bared and muscles tense.

“I, no, I’m sorry. The moment was heated, and I…” Her face fell at his apology, and she visibly loosened.

“No, I’m sorry. We agreed not to mention your anger issues, and I broke the truce.” Her eyes were kind and full of love as she looked at her matesprit.

“Sorry, Karcrab. Can I make it up to you by giving you the window seat on the plane?” She smiled. Though in jest, she knew he’d appreciate the offer, as if he couldn’t see out the window, he’d inevitably get sick. He chuckled a grating sound.

“Sure,” he began. “So long as you sit next to me.” He smiled, too, and opened his arms out to her. He wasn’t a huge fan of hugging but knew that she was - so he doted on her frequently with them.

The two, an established relationship for over two years, were remarkably good at arguing. They rarely did it, and the fights they had were short-lived and quickly addressed. Communication was a key to their relationship.

“The middle seat?” she laughed, stepping into the embrace. “Ugh.” Karkat snorted and pulled her in, kissing the crown of her head. His horns and hair proved a challenge, but soon Feferi’s (much taller) head was nestled on top of his. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

-

He stood at the garden entrance, face contorted into an indiscernible mix of emotions. Jade stood a few feet away, sheepishly.

“I really meant to tell you, dear, but it just never came up in conversation, you know!”

“You are inviting two dancing lunatics into our apartment. For a week. And you never thought to tell me?” It wasn’t easy to portray emotions in sign language, usually, but Dave was managing “indescribably angry” pretty well.

“Yes! Er, no! I mean, yes, I thought to tell you, but I knew you’d freak out, so I just… didn’t?” The words sounded way worse out loud. “But I mean, it’s only for a week!” she backpedaled. “And fans have been asking for it forever! Think of the revenue, Dave! Think of the apple juice.” The mention of his favorite beverage failed to change his focus.

“A week. A week with those two. In our apartment. Our studio. Our home.” She took a tentative step forward, reaching out. Dave didn’t like the rooftop, even after it’s conversion, so she knew if she got him back into the studio he’d be more reasonable. He leaped backward.

“No! Don’t touch me!” Jade pulled back, eyes full of hurt. She, an island recluse, found touch to be her most prominent love language. He, too, was devoid of much of it while growing up. Together, they had always found solace in each other - long naps in each other’s arms. By pulling away, Dave was hitting her where it hurt most.

But then again, he was hurt, too.

“I’m going back to the studio. I’ll…” he paused. “See you later. I guess.” he turned around and began to walk out the door and down the steps. Jade cast her arm out, reaching, but let it fall to her side. She didn’t call after him, as he couldn’t hear it. She slowly sank to the ground, skirts gathering around her legs in a beige, buttoned pool.

She had royally fucked up.


	3. An Ending, Perhaps?

“It’s too fucking hot, Peixes.” growled Karkat. He had ditched his traditional black pants and long-sleeve for a more appropriate tank top and shorts, all in grey. His partner beside him was in a bikini top and shorts, hair pulled away in a messy bun. Though both were technically built for extreme temperatures, Houston defies all laws of thermodynamics. It was hot. Hotter than the Alternian sun they had only heard of in whispers from their parents. 

Fuck Houston in the summer. Why did she pick summer?

“I know… I think I’m melting!” she moaned. Their respective suitcases toddled behind them, dragged on squeaky wheels. Dave had flat-out refused to pick them up from the airport, and Jade was preoccupied with setting up their room - so they had taken a cab. An AC-less, hot, sweaty, Texan cab.

Mistakes were made.

“Is this the right building?” He asked, voice irate from the long walk.

“I think so!” Feferi pulled out her phone to check, referencing the address emailed to her. “Yep! They’re in apartment number…” Her face paled. She swallowed. “Six-twelve. Top floor. No elevator.” 

“Oh, fuck us.”

And so the trek began.

-  
A ring at the door. Then another. And another.

“I’m coming!” called Jade, jogging her way to the door. She had just finished cleaning - piles had been put away, laundry done, and the floors (for probably the first time in their lives) vacuumed. Luckily, their guests had arrived not a moment too early.

She flicked the locks open and pulled the door, revealing two disheveled looking aliens in the doorway.

“Feferi!” She called.

“Jade!” The two women embraced each other, Feferi’s luggage forgotten. Karkat groaned internally, knowing he’d be carrying both suitcases into the house - she was already lost in a game of catch-up with her friend.

Huh. Dave’s place wasn’t the pigsty of piss and apple juice he’d expected to walk into. Nice.

Jade and Feferi were joined at the hip, arms flailing as they chatted away. She seemed to be giving a tour of the house and an update on the past year of her life simultaneously, all while Feferi babbled away about their studio.

How they were managing to keep track of their own words, let alone respond to the other’s, was a mystery to him. He begrudgingly rolled the matching black suitcases behind him, following their path through the house to what was (presumably) their room.

Lost in thought, Karkat barely noticed when they came to a halt in a sparsely decorated bedroom with distastefully orange walls. Jade and Feferi had both stopped their conversations.

“Ah, I best get Dave then! He’ll be excited you guys are here!” The grimace on her face suggested otherwise, but Feferi beamed anyways.

“Ooh, I can’t wait! I’m so excited to start working on it!” she called. Jade giggled in response. As she left the room, Karkat managed to call out a choked “Thank you!” before she left. He wasn’t sure if she had heard him, nor did he really care.

God, at least this place had AC. 

Feferi, stronger than him, hefted the two suitcases onto the bed for unpacking. He offered a silent thank you via head nod and turned around to unzip the first pocket. Before he could get very far, however, a disturbingly familiar voice interrupted, freezing him in place.

Against his better judgment, he turned around to face the doorway. Just as expected, he found David Strider leaning against it, shades on eyes and apple juice in hand. Unsure of his guests’ sign comprehension, Dave managed a shaky phrase:

“Yo.”

-

Needless to say, the following week sucked for everyone involved. 

-

“Oh, piss off, Strider!” called Karkat, mostly in jest. His target chuckled in response, merely leaning back into the couch. Jade was kneeling by the T.V., fiddling with a mess of cables and wires feeding from the T.V. to her laptop. Feferi was perched on the couch’s armrest, legs folded neatly into a perfect popcorn-bowl holder.

“Ready!” called Jade jovially, bouncing back to the couch, remote in hand. She settled in between Dave and the couch’s other arm, as a barrier no longer needed to be placed between them.

Looking to ensure that the group was seated comfortably, Jade pressed the “play” button on the remote. The screen jumped to life, and Dave wheeled across the screen on a skateboard, light music in the background. The track had no lyrics, but the choreography was gorgeous.

This scene had taken no time at all to film - Dave had been skateboarding basically since he could walk, and probably even before, knowing his older brother. The screen shifted, pulling away to reveal Feferi and Jade in swimsuits, waving at him as he passed. The song was supposed to encapsulate a “fresh, summer vibe” as Jade had described it, meaning the music video had to match.

Jade and Dave were putting the finishing touches on it when their partners arrived, meaning they really only had to work out the choreography and film. Luckily, Jade and Dave had worked their argument out by the time their guests arrived, though not as healthily as their counterparts. In terms of filming, A week was a tight timeframe, but they could do it - after all, any longer and the plane tickets would’ve been upcharged.

Karkat rolled onto the screen in roller skates, a previously hidden talent. The two swirled around each other, trading glances and tricks before the on-screen Karkat pulled to a stop. Still in his roller skates, he began to bust out a complicated set of choreography, which included twists and spins via the skates.

The on-screen Dave took the challenge, spinning, and dancing on his board, albeit a much simpler version. Dave had refused to learn this scene, as he did not enjoy dancing, essentially, for Karkat.

Jade, thankfully, had knocked some sense into him. If one looked over to the couch’s center, you could spot a flustered Dave looking anywhere but the screen. And the boy seated next to him, of course.

The screen moved onwards, with Feferi and Jade switching to the focus. They mocked out a similarly styled “fight”, dancing around the plaza. They had both taken to this scene like fish to water, loving the opportunity to dance together. The girls giggled from their spots on the couch, shooting each other knowing looks.

The rest of the video flew by similarly - shots of the four dancing around each other to the beat, with Feferi and Karkat naturally taking the more complicated parts.

The video ended far too soon for those watching, and a collective groan of disappointment arose when it ended. A comfortable silence settled over the room, and the laptop on the floor began to go dark from idling.

“Well!” Jade began, “best viewing party ever, huh?”

“Yeah, sure.” Karkat rolled his eyes. “If you like watching your friends make fools of themselves.”

“You were up there too, dear.” Feferi reminded him, gently teasing. He went red, a common habit of his.

“Yeah, well!” he huffed, arms crossed over his chest. Jade and Feferi merely laughed.

The girls looked at one another, trading cautious glances. The two sandwiches between them picked up on them, of course, and grew worried.

“God, fuck, what is it this time?” was Karkat’s reaction.

Jade stood, skirts flourishing behind her. She beckoned for Feferi to stand beside her. They looked at each other, smiled, and clasped hands.

“We,” began Jade.

“Are girlfronds.” finished Feferi.

-

It was an hour after their (not-so-surprising) announcement. The two had been clinging on each other all week, and it was no secret that both of the original relationships were open to being polyamorous.

“Dave, I just wanted to say…” Karkat rubbed the back of his neck, face flushing red. “Thanks for not being an asshole. I appreciate it.” Dave snorted, his distaste for the small troll gone.

“Not a problem. Thanks for not being an asshole either.” The two stood in awkward silence, not sure how to progress. 

“Listen, I -”

“So here’s the thing -”

They cut themselves off, stopping politely. Dave took the lead and began again.

“I. Don’t hate you anymore. So, since we’ll probably be seeing more of each other, I guess you should know...” He paused, hands twitching in nervousness. “In fact,” he continued, “I like you.” 

It hit Karkat like a ton of bricks. Oh, shit. This was a mutual thing.

“I- I,” he stuttered out, still not confident enough to sign back to Dave. “I like you. Too.” Dave smiled, and you could tell it was genuine, even behind the shades. Karkat, still blushing, considered the possibilities of their quadrangle.

He supposed it didn’t have a horrible ring to it. Jade, Dave, Karkat, Feferi - art extraordinaires and lovers.

Yeah, he decided. He liked the sound of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would genuinely like to apologize to whoever receives this prompt! I would've liked to budget my time better and give you a better (and less-rushed) ending, but it just wasn't in the cards. In fact, everything past chapter one was written in three hours. I do, however, plan to update this for you following polyswap! I intend to lengthen the ending and change out the scene descriptors to the actual writing of them filming said scenes. I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless! <3


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